


the Major Leagues

by SoyaCat



Category: League of Legends
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Dysfunctional Family, Family, Fluff, Friendship, Multi, Multiple Pairings, Other, various characters - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-06
Updated: 2016-05-16
Packaged: 2018-05-18 12:49:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5929063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SoyaCat/pseuds/SoyaCat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of drabbles and one-shots for League of Legends. Stories of its Champions as they experience life on and off Summoner’s Rift.  Includes various champions and pairings. champions and pairings.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Pancake

Pantheon pounded his shield with a large smirk on his face. The blood lust was bolded in his eyes as he looked at the Noxian general. "Is that all you have?" he sneered. "What a general you must make."

Darius gripped his Axe and wiped some blood from his face. "It's a pity how much you underestimate me, the true power of raw, true, strength. You call yourself an Artisan of war? You barely scratch me." he laughed harshly. "Your head will make for a pretty trophy for the Noxian's wall when I'm done with you."

"All talk." Pantheon smirked preparing for the next clash. His muscles felt steady and they throbbed with need to want to run his spear through Darius' armor. He wanted nothing more than the Noxian to fall lifeless before him. The image made his sneer widen. "You will be privilege to die at my feet!"

Pantheon lunged forward and thrust his spear forward. Darius respond and moved to the side and immediately spun with his heavy axe.

There was barely enough time for him to jump away so he dropped low, feeling the blade of the axe skim the hairs on his helmet. When it cleared over his head, Pantheon adjusted his grip on the spear and propelled it forward into the General's head. Darius grunted and staggered a few steps.

He raised the axe over his head and when he brought it down. Pantheon raised his shield but even still felt the force of the blow caused him to falter. When the second blow came, it hammered down with twice the force of the first. His knees were forced down onto the ground as it cracked beneath him.

He felt his muscles burned as he struggled to keep his shield above him. Pain spiked through his shoulder, but he was quick to banish the pain like he was trained to do.

"I will split your shield in two and when you die, you will be honored that you have finally witness true strength." Darius grinned and as he prepared for the third one Pantheon knew he needed to move.

Pantheon clenched his teeth tightly and as the axe was coming down he dove to the side. The earth caught the blow and he took advantage to launch himself into the air. "You know nothing of strength!"

His muscles were taut, readying his arms for the perfect thrust like he was taught. He would not lose this battle. The Noxian would die today, by his hand.

Darius lifted his arm to block the blow but the shield came down with such force that it slammed into his head anyway. The General grunted and Pantheon used this moment of hesitation to use his head to propel him back towards the ground.

When he hit the floor the Artisan immediately roughly shoved his spear at him. Daruis, was quick however. He shot out his hand and gripped the spear as the tip pierced his palm.

Blood spurted and dripped down Pantheon's weapon. There was a pause for a split second as he tried to rip it out. Dariu's other hand gripped the spear, and whipped it, along with Pantheon to the other side.

Darius grunted and looking at his hand as Pantheon shot back up, recovering quickly. He tossed the spear lightly out of his hand to adjust his grip and prepared to whip it forward when he heard his summoner.

'Get to mid lane now! It's getting over run!'

The voice took him by surprise and he faltered. "Not now!"

'Yes. Now! Do you want to lose? Use Skyfall! Quickly!' Pantheon could almost hear Veigar's distant pained grunts and it made him snort with disgust at the weakness of the mage. But, nonetheless, Pantheon clenched his teeth and prepared his muscles for the jump.

"And where do you think you're going?" Darius barked a laugh and hooked his axe around the artisan.

The dull hook dug painfully into his back, yanking him quickly over to Darius. When the hold loosened Pantheon moved to jump back when he felt Darius fist plow into his face.

Pantheon staggered onto his knees, grunting. And as he looked up, Darius was winding up for another swing. It didn't seem like he would have enough time to dodge the axe entirely this time. His shield shot up just fast enough to feel the force of Darius' axe slam into his shield, sending him flying towards the river. 

Darius' laugh echoed distantly in his ears as his summoner screamed at him, 'Run Pantheon! Run!'

Pantheon's muscles screamed and protested as he took in a few breaths. He snarled up at the summoner commanding him and moved.

Water splashed onto his armor as he sprinted, with the general biting at his heels. "Running from a fight? Artisan?" Darius' voice made him ball his fists. A knot of irritation tightened in his chest as he clenched his spear and shield.

He ran. He ran into his jungle, evading the large man quickly. He could hear Darius' loud armor thunking past him as he hid behind a rather large tree.

'Pantheon! Quickly! Before he finds you!'

The Artisan's jaw tightened. Nonetheless, he hunched low into the ground and then shot up into the sky. There was no lack of pings of where the summoners wanted him to go.

He barely heard his teammates shouting for the others to move when he landed. The ground cracked as he touched down onto the rift in the midst of all the enemy champions. He maneuvered quickly past blades and spells and then thrust his spear cleanly into one of the Champion's head. He quickly ripped hit out and moved onto his next opponent, blood splashing onto his armor.

A smirk framed his face, feeling invigorated. "Come to your deaths!" He snarled as he barreled past one of his teammates to bash his shield into a fish.

From the corner of his eyes he could see his teammates quickly joining the fight, Vayne, the Demacian rolled at the back, firing her bow with precision. She was quickly joined by Alistair as he charged ahead, defending the archer.

It had only been seconds into the fight when he saw the Darius' shadow in the air. His hands high above his head ready to slice his opponents open with a hard slam. Pantheon hadn't noticed how much damage he had sustained until then and he barely had time moments to step away from the killing blow when he felt the blade grind down his shoulder.

Blood poured from his back and his vision quickly blurred. He felt Alistair quickly rush to his aid, quickly healing him before shoving the general away from him. Pantheon slumped and grunted, but he dare not fall onto his two knees again.

"Are you alright?" Alistair glanced back at him as his teammates ran ahead of him.

"Go! I will be fine!" Pantheon staggered forward and stabbed his spear into the ground to steady himself. His mind pulsed and his bloodied shoulder throbbed pain washing over his body. His shield felt heavy on his arm, heavier than he ever felt it to be.

He gasped for breath and then felt his Summoner recall him back to the base.

Upon arrival his wound began to slowly stitch up. He felt his dead skin meld back into one and felt the nerve endings reattach itself together. The feeling made him shiver with disgust. No matter how many times he had come back, it was a feeling he could never get used to.

But soon pain was a forgotten memory and his summoner was quick to put him back to work.

Skyfall, to the middle inhibitor tower, Pantheon they need you.

His legs were no longer shaky. Strength had returned to them and he leapt into the sky with a single leap, once again. When he landed his first reaction was to look around. Darius looked to have been dealt no doubt as he was nowhere to be seen.

His fists clenched into tight fists as he swore, under his breath, that he would be the one to put the Noxian down the next time they saw each other. He ran ahead only to hear a small voice beneath him.

"A warning would have been nice! Watch it next time!"

By the sound of it, it was the small yordle, Veigar. He paid no attention to him and caught up with his teammates but when he glanced back he found the Yordle glaring daggers at him.

"I'll show you the definition of pain if you do that one more time!" He hissed.

"Do what, exactly?" Pantheon narrowed his eyes.

"Drop from the sky! You can't just land so close to me like that! I was almost squished!" He pointed his wand threateningly at the Artisan. Pantheon couldn't help a grin from his lips and it only angered the yordle all the more.

"Next time, I'll squash you with dark matter and we'll see how much you like it!" Veigar practically screeched, just in time for the inhibitor to explode. Pantheon could only laugh at the image of the Yordle trying to best him.

"You can definitely try. Mages use Magic because they are weak." He taunted as their team began to back away from the base to recover.

Veigar's body shook with rage. "That's it!" His voice was shrill as Pantheon had ever heard it. "After this match, I'll make you as flat as a pancake!"

"Well, I've always wanted to be a baker."


	2. Flat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Word Promot: Flat

Deep in the League sat two Champions awaiting their turn to be summoned onto the Fields of Justice. It had been predicted that today was going to be a very interesting match, but Vladimir and LeBlanc couldn’t be bothered.

The Reaper sat, slouched in his chair, one arm resting lazily on the arm rest while the other one played with a ball of blood he had sucked out of a poor victim moments ago before arriving. LeBlanc, on the other hand, was seated straight, her legs crossed, with one hand gently touching her chin while the other holding a letter.

She felt a small sigh escape her as she tilted her letter down to eye Vladimir.  She didn’t want to admit that she was envious of Vlad, but that’s exactly what she was. He had something to play with and she didn’t.

LeBlanc watched him expand the ball of blood and the pungent smell grew as he did. The smell of rust and musk made her scrunch her nose. It would have made her gag if she wasn’t already used to this kind of smell. She watched him a moment more and then gently let the letter rest on her lap.

“Vladimir, darling, do tone-” she gestured towards him, realizing after a pause that she hadn’t a clue of what he was doing. “-whatever you’re doing down, the smell is becoming unbearable.”

The Reaper smirked, gathering even more blood in his hands which made her frown. He arched a brow when he replied, “My, is the Matron of the Black Rose bothered by the smell of blood?”

“Bothered?” She gave a light laugh. “Blood reeks darling. The stench of blood mixed with vomit and sweat is even worse,” she told him, her nose scrunching once again at the thought of having to smell all sorts of bodily odors. “I’m just thinking about the others that come in after us.”

He laughed. “I never knew the great illusionist cared for the league and its summoners.”

“Oh, be assured dear, I don’t. They’re barely animals really. Vomit, sweat and blood is not something I want to return to.” she told him and then uncrossed her legs. “And please, I prefer the title of ‘deceiver’ not illusionist. I don’t want children coming up to me, thinking I’m somehow open for business.” She scowled.

“My apologies,” Vladimir chuckled. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

 “Please do, darling. Please do.” She smiled menace lacing into her features that she made sure Vladimir would not miss. Le Blanc folded the letter neatly, taking a soft breath. “Now, I’m curious about your skill set Vladmir, dear.”

She knew it had to look a little surprising that she was taken an interest in his skill as she took little to no interest in anyone else. If it didn’t benefit her or the Black Rose then there was no point in knowing. But now, she was absolutely, incredibly, sorely, _bored_. She must have read the letter enough times to memorize it word for word.

Vladimir raised his eyebrows. “You’re curious about my skill?” he asked darkly. “I have to admit your curiosity draws questions.”

She waved his protest away. “Quiet, dear. You can ask questions later.” Le Blanc wasn’t going to admit she was bored. Not to Vladimir. 

“Does the blood seep from the pores of your victims? Or do you just pull it out of their orifices?”

It took a moment for the Reaper to sigh and begin to vaguely explain. She feigned her interest, letting the words slip into one ear and out the other. She was bored, but it didn’t mean she was interested in anyway. But still, a few words here and there made her ears perk.

“It’s all a rather a bore, I’m sure.” He finished with a grin, looking at the bubbling ball of blood in his hands. “Perhaps I could try it on you sometimes.”

She laughed, unfazed by his idle threat. “You can definitely try, my dear. You can definitely _try_.” 

“Is that a challenge?” She could hear the ambitions and cunning colouring his voice. But then he eased back into his chair. “I doubt you even heard anything I said.”

 “Of course I did, darling,” she said quickly. Vladimir looked unconvinced. “But my main interest lies in your ability to melt into a pool of blood.”  

“It’s not melting. I sink.” he stated like he had taken a little offense to her lack of knowledge on his skill.

“Of course Darling,” she ignored him and crossed her arms. “I’m just impressed how…well flat you appear. How do you move in that form?”

Vladimir laughed. “You’re impressed? I must admit, I thought the Matron of the Black Rose would not think my abilities to be _impressive_ by any stretch. What do you-”

“Perhaps impressive was overstating it, dear.” She interrupted her eyes flashing dangerously and a little defensively. She then sighed and then continued innocently, “Darling, I simply wanted to make conversation but if you wish to hear my true opinions on your ability then it’s something I can’t be bothered with.”

The Reaper took no offence and instead chuckled again. “I knew you would say something like that. It’s better. Your kindness and curiosity was a little unbecoming.”

Le Blanc frowned deeply and she narrowed her eyes. “Don’t pretend to know me, Reaper. You know nothing and you will do well to remember that.” Her words were cold and biting.

Vladimir only smirked in response and her features, after, quickly smoothed back into an innocent smile. The smile fit Le Blanc well, because upon closer inspection anyone would find that the smile would be anything but innocent.

“And did you say that my curiosity are unbecoming?” she started flatly. “What do you take me for, Darling? A stone statue who wants nothing to do with progress? I have my own questions to be curious about.”

She added, “I’m not as flat and vein as you think.”

“Le Blanc?” Vladimir stared at her, unsure if she had just made a pun towards him but he couldn’t get a good look at her face as she had returned back to her letter.

“Hush, Vladimir, dear. I’m busy now,” she lied.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IF there are any requests, let me know! I'm rather new to the site so I'm a little lost as to what to format everything so I'm just poking around. But please critique is always welcomed!


	3. Heaven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Heaven

Kayle flapped her small wings unevenly as she jumped into the air, trying to lift herself from the ground. But to no avail. Only moments later her feet touched the ground again, but she wasn’t going to give up. She jumped over and over again.

If Morgana could fly then so could she, Kayle thought. Frustration knotted in her chest. It had been days since she had begun trying to flap her wings and finally lift from the ground.

Mama had always told her to imagine trying to touch the tall ceiling and to flap as hard as she could. Kayle reached up her hands and jumped again until she heard faint knock on her door.

A small head poked through and she instantly recognized her sister’s vibrant purple hair and her wide pale eyes. Kayle frowned.

“Go away.”                                                                                 

“Why?” Morgana pouted gripping the door, unsure if she wanted to enter her older sister’s room.

There were a ton of reasons why she didn’t want her sister to come in. She didn’t want her sister seeing her try so hard. Morgana liked to sometimes tease her about not being able to fly like her yet.

And most of the time, it made her want to cry. But she couldn’t cry. She was the older sister. She was supposed to be tough; she couldn’t cry.

“Go away.” Kayle repeated.

“What are you doing?” Morgana asked. Not unkindly. Her eyes were wide with curiosity. Her wings gently fluttered behind her as she slowly walked in. Morgana’s wings were large and they quietly dragged behind her when she walked. But Kayle’s wings were small.

 “Nothing.” She quickly said and then fidgeted with her hair. “What do you want Morgana?” She quickly changed the subject so her sister wouldn’t suspect anything.

Morgana hopped onto Kayle’s bed and frowned. “I’m bored.” She whined. “Ma and Pa had to go to work and Gran is sleeping,” she informed her sister, but Kayle didn’t care much. She just wanted to learn how to fly so she could impress her ma and pa.

She wanted, desperately, for her sister to leave so she could practice again. A small whine slipped from her but Morgana seemed too preoccupied to hear it.

 “We can go play tag! Or hide and seek!” Morgana suggested.

“I don’t wanna play right now, okay? Can you go away, please?” Kayle stomped her foot. Her tone was much harsher than she intended it to be but it caught Morgana’s attention. Her little sister peered over the bed frame with a sheepish look.

“Please go away.” Kayle’s jaw tightened with frustration as she looked at her sister. Morgana was quiet as she slid off the bed and sulked towards the door.

“Okay. Sorry.”

When the door closed she began to jump again. It was almost a few hours later that she dropped down onto the floor, sweaty and tired. What if she couldn’t fly? What if she was never going to fly?

Tears threatened to spill from her golden eyes. Her lip quivered and when she couldn’t hold it in anymore, she cried. Tears streamed down her face, her arms quickly trying to wipe them away. The more she tried to stop herself, it seemed, the louder she got.

She was never going to learn to fly, she thought hopelessly. She was never going to fly and her wings were never going to grow. Kayle felt the large droplets wetting her dress.

“I want Mama!” She sharply inhaled. Her hands roughly rubbed her eyes to clear the blur of tears from her eyes.  She wanted her mama, she sobbed loudly. Her mama would pick her up and rock her to sleep, and tell her she was going to be okay.

She cried, hoping her mama would hear her, wherever she was. But when her mama never came, it made Kayle wail all the harder.

“Kalie, are you okay?” Morgana stumbled towards her on her short feet, catching Kayle by surprise. She hadn’t noticed her little sister walking into her room

“Go away! I want Mama!” Kayle cried, not caring who saw her cry anymore. Morgana, wiped her sister’s cheeks with her stubby fingers and kissed her cheek which helped settle Kayle’s sobs into gasps.

“Why are you crying?” Morgana asked, sitting closely to her older sister.

“I want Mama.” Kayle choked. Morgana wrapped her small arms around her and leaned her head on her sister’s shoulder. Kayle could feel Morgana’s wings wrap around the two of them.

“It’s goin’ to be okay. Mama’s coming home soon, you’ll see.” Morgana gave Kayle a tight squeeze and kissed her older sister’s cheek again. “We’re goin’ to be okay, okay?”

Kayle sniffled and nodded. “Okay.” She continued to breathe sharply feeling like she was on the verge of crying at any moment.

Morgana sat with her sister for a while and when Kayle wasn’t getting any better she grabbed a toy from Kayle’s bed and thrust it into her face.

“Kalie is sad. Kalie shouldn’t be sad. Mama is coming home soon, you’ll see!” Morgana wiggled the toy around as she mustered her best old man voice. Which wasn’t very good.

“Go away Mr. Grumples.” Kayle pushed the toy away.

“But Kalie is sad. Mr. Grumples will not leave until Kalie is happy again.” She peered closely at her older sister’s face and saw a crack of a smile. Morgana thrust the toy back into her face and made it dance. “Kaaaaalliiee, be happy Kalliiee! Smile Kaaaliee!” Morgana sang a silly tune until Kayle’s face bubbled with laughter.

“Stop it!” Kayle swatted the toy from her face and giggled.

“Can we go play now?” Morgana smiled, using her shirt to help wipe Kayle’s face.

Kayle wiped her dry eyes and then nodded. Maybe it wasn’t so bad. Morgana would be there for her even if she couldn’t fly. Her little sister helped her off the ground and then gently pushed her sister.

“You’re it!” Morgana shouted as she ran out of the room squealing with laughter when Kayle jetted after her.

+++++++++++

Kayle opened her eyes, expecting it to be in her old room, but instead she found herself in the league of legends. The dark room contrasted the one in her dreams which streamed with light and life – hers and her little sister’s. It was a simpler life when they were younger. They didn’t have to worry about the raging war. Their worries were occupied with flying and hiding spots.

Sometimes she wished she could go back to that time. She missed her sister sometimes, as much as she didn’t like to admit it. She doubted her sister felt anything remotely the same but family was family and no matter how hard she wanted to throw that away, she couldn’t. It was more difficult to do than say.

But it didn’t matter now. Now, she and Morgana were mortal enemies. And even if they were to somehow could make it right again, Kayle wouldn’t be able to let her sister go free.

In the end, it would be better if Morgana was dead.

Justice was a cruel and ugly thing. 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Veigar and Tristana - Requested

**Veigar and Tristana – Fussy**

Tristana sipped her drink, as she waited for her friend. Her eyes were staring into Veigar’s back. He was grumpy, as usual. But something seemed to upset him even more so today. If she was to guess about what it was he was grumpy about it was probably about the match earlier today.

She hadn't heard much about it since she’d been busy, but she’d heard a few things. He had faced off against LeBlanc the Deceiver. It must have been a hard lane. She felt a little sympathy for the mad mage seeing how his summoner was almost as hot tempered as him.

She sat there thoughtfully and then felt something being yanked from her head. Her hands instantly flew to where her goggles used to be. "Hey!" She whirled around and when she saw Teemo hopping over to the seat across from her, she frowned.

"Mind giving those back?"

The scout eyed her goggles and turned them in his hand. "I never see you wear these much." He looked at her as Tristana heaved herself up the table to reach across, but Teemo held them out of reach. "Do they actually get any use?"

"Give those back!" Tristana's hand gripped the empty air as she continued to feebly reach for her gear. "Teemo!" 

The scout laughed, "What? I just wanted to see. I've always wanted a pair, but I didn't know if I should actually invest in a pair."

After a few more seconds Tristana fell back onto her seat with a huff. "It's for a gunner. You know, dirt flies in my face when I shoot sometimes." she told him, crossing her arms.

Her friend arched a brow and looked at her. "Oh, I don't doubt it," he said and then handed the goggles back. "I'm sure _a lot_ of dirt flies into your face." 

Tristana knew her friend well enough to differentiate his tone between sincerity and painful sarcasm.  This was the latter. She arched a brow. "You think you can outshoot me?" 

“Seeing as your goggles don’t seem to be used that often?” He laughed. “I’d say yes!”

A large grin spread over her face as she slapped the table. “You’re on!”

“Can both of you please just shut up?” The two yordles turned to Veigar sitting at the table behind them. His hand was clutching his mug tightly, threatening to splinter the cup. “You won’t even be able to shoot once I’m done with the both of you!”

There was a moment of silence before Teemo broke it. “Well… aren’t you fussy. What's got your panties in a bunch?"

“None of your business!” Viegar shot back. The two yordles flinched the sheer volume of his voice. It echoed in the bar, drawing some stares.  Teemo rubbed his ears gently and laughed softly.

"If it’s your match you’re grumpy about, I think your match went better than you think, since you won." Tristana said rather cheerfully. Veigar froze and Teemo gave her a very wary look, but the gunner took no mind and took another sip of her drink.

"I guess, then, you would like to be countered for a few hours, hm?" The mage was practically shrieking at this point. Tristana could almost see the steam billowing out of his ears.

The bartender had a nervous look on his face when Tristana glanced over.

Tristana gave him a smile that made the Mage falter for a second. “I think you did just fine.”

Veigar stared at her for a moment, for once, quiet. “Stay out of my business, Tristana!” He finally growled and then turned back to his drink.

The gunner only laughed and waved at the bartender. “Come on, Veigar, drink with us! You won, we should celebrate!”

“There’s nothing to celebrate.” Veigar hissed, feeling his resolve slowly melt. “I lost my lane.”

“But you won the match! Don’t be so hard on yourself.” Tristana called over the bartender and circled her finger in the air. “A round of ale on me! To Veigar’s victory!” she shouted with a laugh. The whole bar erupted in a cheer, easing the tension in the room.

“What? Stop!” Veigar had a slight panicked look on his face as Tristana held up her half-empty mug.

The crowd in the bar held up their drinks and shouted in unison, “To Veigar’s victory!”

The Mage looked around for a moment, a twinge of warmth seeping into his chest as he saw the people in bar, who barely knew him, cheering for him. He looked at Tristana who was standing on her chair now, her cup raised for him her bright smile warming the whole room.

“To the victories to come!” she shouted as the Bartender filled pints, laughing and cheering with them.

Tristana downed her drink and then felt a small tug on her arm. "So, how are you planning to pay for all of this?" Teemo asked with a chuckle. "Last time you had to wash dishes for a month."

A nervous smile spread over her features as she gulped. But when she saw a ghost of a smile on Veigar's face she suddenly found that she wouldn't mind washing dishes at the bar for a whole year.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For one of my commenters who requested one with Veigar and Trsitana - Milo :) sorry I took so long. School work got in the way, anyway, I hope you enjoyed it!


	5. Commend

“I really _commend_ you for trying.” Lux’s mother smiled at her as she ate.

Lux could only roll her eyes at her mother’s hidden critique. _You didn’t do well enough but I’m glad you at least tried, if that’s what you call trying, that is._ Her mother was infamous in the Crownguard family for being passive aggressive when she was upset. And her mother, right now, was _very_ upset.

“I really do commend you for trying _so hard_ out there today.” Her mother repeated, claspinh her hands together in fake delight. There was it was again the word ‘commend’. Her sarcasm was so tangible that she could cut it with a knife.

“Let’s review what you did _so well_ today, shall we dear?” Lux could only pick at her food when her mother started to name off her mistakes in her light, fake airy voice she reserved only when she was half way to being furious.

Her mother was talking about her diagnostic test for one of her advanced classes in school. Lux had to admit, even to herself, that she had royally screwed it up. She was feeling a little off today and she couldn’t understand why. Relief came in the thought that, at least the test hadn’t been a real one and it had only been in front of her trainer.

“You are not just a Crownguard, Luxanna. You are also a Crownguard _prodigy_. You need to start living up to the name.” Her mother reminded coldly.

The constant immense pressure to be the best sat on her shoulders like two unwelcomed weights. Lux rested her head on her hand and picked at her food, listening to her mother ‘commend’ her.

“I remember your brother when he went through his testing.” Her eyes dreamily looked up at the chandelier her mind reminiscing on a time that was long past. “Garen did so well.”

“I know you’re going to be wonderful out there.” Lux heard her mother say without an ounce of sincerity in her voice. “But I think you need to try a little harder out there. Because I know you can do better than that. I will not have somebody as unprepared as you smear the Crownguard name, do I make myself clear?”

“Crystal.” Lux responded flatly.

“Wonderful.” Her mother smiled stiffly, pushing the chair back to leave the dining room. Lux watched her mother’s retreating back and rolled her eyes. She heaved a frustrated sigh and stabbed the meat with so much force she almost split the plate.

**Author's Note:**

> Please review and let me know what you think!


End file.
